


The Hands of Death

by MisteryMaiden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisteryMaiden/pseuds/MisteryMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is tired and fed up with the world around him. He just wants to be done with life but will fate allow him just to die? Or will it enlist the most unlikely help to keep the Chosen One alive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've already posted this story on fanfiction.net and as I've been rewriting it, I never really got around to posting it here. So two years later, I've finally remembered that I'd yet to do this and here it is! I hope you all enjoy it!

_**Prologue** _

* * *

Harry Potter was seven years old when his first 'punishment' happened. He had been hit before, don't get him wrong, but it was nothing like the beating he received that year. Vernon had been drunk and when Harry had dropped the plate that he was taking to sink so it could be washed, well, there had been no saving the small child from his Uncle's wrath.

It had been the first time that Dudley had seemed to second guess his parents, sneaking his smaller and injured cousin some food in his tiny prison of a cupboard. It had been the only time that Dudley had ever shown some human decency but it had not lasted long. A few days later they'd had a visitor. Harry had been locked in the Cupboard at the time, so he had not been able to glimpse the strange person that the Dursley's seemed to openly hate but allowed in their home anyway.

The next day it was like Dudley had never spoke a kind word to him and Harry Hunting was officially invented. Harry vowed to hate the stranger for the rest of his life as he was sure that it was that person's fault that he had lost the only kind family he'd ever had. It would be years before he discovered who the visitor was and what he had done to his poor cousin.

Two years later, on Harry's ninth birthday, his family was visited by the police. The men claimed that they had been called because a neighbor had heard screaming coming from the house and had been alarmed. Harry knew that this was because of Vernon's 'birthday gift'. It was the first time that he had hated his uncle completely. His behind had never hurt so badly and he felt disgust in the pit of his stomach.

There was a loud popping noise from the hall where his family was yelling at the men. There was muttered nonsense before the yelling stopped and the policemen left after stating their confusion about their current location. Deciding that they had been mistaken about the address, the men left. Harry was glad that whoever the stranger was had changed his relative's memory as well.

After that, there was never any report about screams being heard. It was as if the neighbors had become deaf over night. Harry hated the stranger just a bit more after that.

For two more years, the abuse and (as Harry had learned from school) the rape continued to go unnoticed by the neighbors. The letters from no one kept coming until Vernon had fled from their home, taking Harry with them. It was the best two days of his life as Vernon didn't dare beat or rape him where he risked being heard.

It seemed that only Privet Drive had been made deaf and blind to his treatment. Harry was never more grateful to learn that, his back having healed in the absence of more abuse. He was also in shape to leave with Hagrid after reading his letter.

When he returned to Privet Drive to wait for September 1st, Harry was left alone. There was no beating or rape for the entire month and when it was time to head off to Hogwarts, Harry had been certain the Hagrid's appearance had changed things. He learned what friendship was as he went through his first year. He learned that adults in the Wizarding World were just as blind as those in the muggle world. He also learned that the Dark Lord was after his life and that Harry was never going to be normal.

The summer after his first year squashed such thoughts quickly and efficiently. Harry learned that hope was worthless and that he would never be free from his relatives. He stopped hoping completely that year. Harry returned to Hogwarts (against Dobby's best efforts) and learned that he was considered evil for being able to talk to snakes. It was that year that he learned the Dark Lord was just like him and that he should have been a Slytherin. He also learned that if he wanted to keep his friends, he would keep that a closely guarded secret.

The summer of second year was just as bad, if not worse, than the previous summers. Harry was treated like he wasn't even human and he still shivered at the thought of what would have happened if he had stayed after blowing up Aunt Marge. He didn't regret running away one bit.

It was that year that he discovered that he had a godfather and that Dumbledore was the enemy. He had not forgotten his vow to forever hate the stranger who hid his abuse from the world. Harry learned that he was alone in the world, for his friends would always follow Dumbledore as sheep to his whims.

The summer of his third year, Harry was sold by his uncle for money. It was that year that he learned that muggles were inhuman and that he would never lift his finger to help a single one of them. When he returned to Hogwarts and was forced to participate in the Tournament, he learned that the wizards weren't any better. He also learned that Voldemort had created his own family in the Wizarding World and had discarded his muggle one.

He learned that the Ministry were idiots and that his favorite teacher was a Death Eater that was out to kill him. Harry still mourned the death of Barty Crouch Jr.

In the summer of his fourth year, he learned that Sirius loved and would do anything for him. He learned what 'love' was. He returned to Hogwarts and learned about corruption of the Ministry and that torture was not frowned upon. He learned the McGonagall was just another sheep. And at the end of the year, he learned what loss was as Sirius fell through the Veil.

He also learned what true hate was, as he surely hated Bellatrix Lestrange, more than he had hated Dumbledore.

Now it was the summer of his fifth year and Harry was weary to learn the lessons that this year would bring him.

Harry Potter was tired. So very, very tired.

And he had a plan to do something about it.

 


	2. Chapter One

**_Chapter One_ **

* * *

Harry Potter looked around his cupboard and smiled. The Dursley's had moved him back to the cupboard at the beginning of the summer after learning of Sirius' death. It seemed that without the 'insane, mass-murdering godfather' threat hanging over their heads, his relatives decided that Dudley needed his second bedroom more than Harry deserved it.

This suited Harry just fine as he had missed his cupboard. Though he was a bit big for it now, his spiders had been the only friend's he'd had during his childhood and Harry was afraid of what could have happened to them if he wasn't there to keep the Dursley's away from killing them (the old rule was that since Harry lived in the cupboard, it was his job to maintain it). Harry had been relieved to find that they had not bothered cleaning the newly freed cupboard as they fully intended to put him back in it as soon as they were able.

It was the only thing Harry had ever been grateful to his relatives for. They could always be counted on for laziness. The spiders had nestled in his hair, greeting him as an old friend. He smiled contently. He would at least be able to say goodbye before he carried out his plan. They were his only true friends.

He had thought, once upon a time, that Ron and Hermione were his friends but he had learned quickly enough that Hermione would abandon him if he showed that he was smart. The same for Ron as the redhead was always too jealous of Harry for his own good. Though he adored them as his first human friends, he knew that it would not last and rejoiced as every new school year started that they had not left him yet.

Now it would not matter, for he would end his abysmal life this very night, on the eve of his birth. A fitting time to die, Harry smiled, at the age of sixteen. He'd have never thought he'd make it to sixteen when he was little; too sure that Vernon would kill him long before his fourteenth year. The only reason he had escaped that fate was the reprieve he got from the Dursley's every year as he attended Hogwarts.

Harry felt that he would have been better served to have died before fourteen than to be given a glimpse of hope before having that hope denied by the very people that claimed to have his best interests in heart. Dumbledore, he thought bitterly, wanted nothing more than a weapon that could be used against the Dark Lord.

 _'He should have made sure that I never found out about his little manipulations,'_  Harry thought smugly. The prophecy claimed that only he, Harry, could kill the Dark Lord Voldemort. If this were true then the Dark would win this war after tonight.  _'Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.'_  The hand of the other? Well, Harry hoped that killing himself would negate that little problem. The prophecy seemed more self-fulfilling than anything else anyways.

And Harry was tired of being denied the right to live his life  _his_  way. If he couldn't live his way, Harry smiled to himself, then he would die his way, and the little razor in his hand would be his ticket to freedom.

He'd even made sure to free Hedwig before returning to the Dursley's, so there was no one he needed to worry about saving to keep him from going through with it. He would be free. Harry would be free from everything.

"Free at last, free at last," Harry sang quietly as he put the razor to his wrist. "Thank god almighty, I'm free." He slashed the wrist before moving to the other. "At." Blood oozed down his arm. "Last."

The world grew foggy as blood pooled around him. He would be seeing his parents soon, if all went well.

Harry Potter lost consciousness with a smile on his lips.

* * *

Magic swirled around the young wizard. Fate had planned many things out with her prophecy but even she had never seen this coming.

Her Chosen was supposed rid the world of the Dark Lord that was causing problems but as it turned out, it was the Light Lord that was doing the most damage. She had been blind to the truth of the matter before.

Death had been most gleeful to inform her of that as she'd sat comfortably, waiting for her Chosen to fulfill her prophecy. Death had even gifted her Chosen, proclaiming that the boy would become his Master in the future and would need the gift to help him succeed.

Fate was now glad for this gift as she'd shattered her prophecy months before, declaring it void. The Prophecy Balls where he will was stored could only be permanently shattered when the prophecy became void or was fulfilled. Those who studied her hand would know when they attempted to call up the orb in a month's time.

That was not important, she decided. Her dying Chosen was her main concern.

However, Fate knew just what to do. If her Chosen was not going to be saved by those of Light's hand, then she would turn to the Dark to save the Childe.

Death had agreed and the two visited the dream of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, known to the world of Life as Lord Voldemort.

Death couldn't help but find this visit more than a bit amusing.

* * *

Lord Voldemort was asleep when he heard the call of two voices in his mind. As a Dark Lord, his mind was well occluded and it confused him to how anyone had been able to break through his shields.

Confused and enraged him, if you wanted to be more specific about the matter.

 **"Hush, young one,"**  a feminine voice spoke to him.  **"We are here not to cause harm but to seek help. You would do well to listen before you turn us away."**

"And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Voldemort hissed, feeling the rush of power against his skin even in sleep. It would not do well to offend these beings. As a true Slytherin, Voldemort was all about self-preservation.

 **"We are called many things. The Guide,"**  said the female voice.

 **"The Reaper,"** said a male voice.

 **"But you may call use Fate and Death,"**  the female finished.

Fear filled the Dark Lord at the answer. He had spent his life running from Death and to have the entity visit him was terrifying. The Dark Lord kept silent, wondering what they could possibly want from him.

 **"My Prophecy has been voided, young Dark Lord, for I have seen the way of the Light Lord and I find him to be causing more damage to the balance than I ever believed you to be capable of,"** Fate whispered softly, mournfully.  **"My Chosen has been pushed beyond the point of saving, abused and used for the Light's needs. We turn to the Dark to fix balance."**

 **"There must be balance, for without it the world would fall into Chaos."**  Death spoke in anger.  **"For this to be avoided, we will offer you two gifts and ask of you one request."**

 **"We return the form of you birth to you,"** Fate spoke loudly and magic prickled at his skin.

 **"We return you from the insanity for which you have brought upon yourself. The Curse of the Unicorns shall never touch your mind again,"** Death intoned and Voldemort felt his mind return to him.  **"As for you Horcruxes, I return to you the piece you lost and remove that which clouds my Hallow. You shall have one Horcrux, and one only, in the necklace of your ancestor."**

Voldemort felt that this option was better than he could have hoped for, as even one Horcrux was a way to escape Death. Slytherin's Locket would be his only Horcrux, so he'd have to retrieve it and double the protections around the item. "What is the favor that you wish of me?" Tom Riddle spoke, leaving the persona of Voldemort behind. There was no need for masks when talking to Fate and Death.

 **"My Chosen lies dying by his own hand, weary of the life he has led. It is our request of you to save him from himself and those that wish to harm him,"** Fate intoned formally, magically.

"Tell me his location and I will do as you ask," Tom declared after little thought. The prophecy was no longer in effect which meant that he had nothing to fear by Potter's hand. If saving him was what these two wanted then save him he would.

**"The Chosen resides at Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey England. We return you in time, just before he ends his life. Be swift, Dark Lord, for you haven't much time."**

And then he awoke. Gathering his magic, Tom Riddle known also as Lord Voldemort Aparated to Privet Drive.

* * *

Harry watched as the blood flowed down his arms and pooled to the floor. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, his cupboard door flung open.

Hands, gentle and light, touched his wrists and Harry felt to flow of blood stop. Not knowing why this was happening and mourning the thwarting of his plan, Harry allowed himself to be picked up by the stranger who was not Dumbledore.

Dumbledore would have erased his memory and left him there. Dumbledore smelled forever of Lemons and Lies (something Harry would never be able to understand). This man smelled of Dark and Blood, of Deception and Family.

Harry would never be able to describe it to anyone if asked but the scents soothed his mind and the Chosen of Fate allowed himself to be secreted away by the gentle stranger.

Maybe he was finally being saved. Maybe he would never know the pain of abuse and the hatred of the Dursley's again.

Maybe, just maybe, he could hope again.

A smile curled on the face of Harry Potter as he allowed Darkness to take him

Free at last, free at last. Thank god almighty, he was free…at…last…

* * *

Thousands of miles away in the forests of Scotland, a magical device that monitored the wards of Privet Drive shattered into a million pieces, gaining the attention of one Albus Dumbledore.

The device that bound the magic of Harry Potter shattered as well, right before that which bound the Potter boy's magic tightly.

Most disturbingly of all was the shattering of a Prophecy Orb he'd had created in case something happened to the original in the Department of Mysteries.

"This does not bode well, Fawkes," Albus Dumbledore whispered as he picked up a piece of the destroyed orb. "This does not bode well at all. We must go check on Harry. I fear that something has happened to him."

Fawkes sang mournfully while watching his bounded fall further into the insanity that plagued his mind. Not so long ago the man before him had been able to put the needs of other's before what he thought was for the Greater Good. He had been a beacon of hope in the Darkness that threatened to take over.

And his fall had started with a young orphan who lived among muggles and knew the horrors that the non-magical could inflict upon the Wizarding World. Fawkes did not know and may not ever know, why the sanity of his bonded began to fail that year but it did not matter. For this was no longer the man that he had respected and bonded to.

Now the Bird of Life could only stay and attempt to stop the damage the fallen man created in his wake. Fate's Chosen was only one manipulation on the once Light Lord's part and Fawkes knew it would not be long before another fell prey to Albus Dumbledore's sights.

Fawkes could only hope that the damage would be small enough for the Phoenix to fix, for if it was not, Chaos would rule the Wizarding World and there would be nothing to stop it from destroying everything.


End file.
